


Skitter and Snarl

by evisionarts



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Fox Stiles Stilinski, M/M, Wolf Derek Hale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-07
Updated: 2019-04-07
Packaged: 2020-01-06 07:06:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18383441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evisionarts/pseuds/evisionarts
Summary: A filthy red fox growled in the corner of the small, metal cage they were both crammed into. The wolf didn’t know whether to snap, laugh or ignore the bristling ball of fluff completely. The stench of blood overlay the fox’s scent, sharp and stinging. It burned, but a strange undercurrent of sweetness kept Derek inhaling and moving closer …





	Skitter and Snarl

Derek startled awake and his first thought was nothing in this gods be damned place made sense. The smells were too thick and oily like a memory of food gone bad. His throat throbbed with pain and he whined as he pawed at a coil of barbed wire looped tightly around it.

A filthy red fox growled in the corner of the small, metal cage they were both crammed into. The wolf didn’t know whether to snap, laugh or ignore the bristling ball of fluff completely. The stench of blood overlay the fox’s scent, sharp and stinging. It burned, but a strange undercurrent of sweetness kept Derek inhaling and moving closer and …

What the hell was he doing? Was this some sort of trick? Where the fuck was he and who was this stranger with ribs showing and matted fur who dared to snarl and bark even as the wolf approached with lips pulled back and fangs dripping? Derek could swallow the whole thing in one bite! Yet the fox refused to shrink away, shaking with fear and adrenaline, terrified gaze fixed on the wolf’s, yet not backing down.

Derek shook his head then sat and allowed his eyes to flare, a brief flash of blue that bathed the fox in a soft glow. The fox stared, head twisted to the side, growls dying out to a soft questioning yip. The tiny animal’s eyes were huge and Derek was lost for a second or two as they flared gold then faded to a deep amber. 

They stared at each other for a moment until Derek lunged forward and nipped at the tip of the fox’s ear, not hard enough to cause pain but a warning none the less. The fox skittered back, stumbling over flailing limbs while his tail flared out like a bottle brush.

Derek sat back on his haunches, his tongue lolling out in an undisguised show of wolfy laughter. 

The fox gazed back with narrowed eyes, the acrid scent of fear fading into a distinct air of irritation. He huffed and a delicate tongue slipped free and licked an inky black paw that reached up to brush over the offended ear.

Derek watched in fascination. 

The fox jumped at the heavy plod of measured footsteps approaching and shrank back against the bars of their prison. Derek turned to face the threat, placed himself between the fox and the cage door. Two men dressed in the long blue coats of the border guard appeared from the shadows.

“Hey! He hasn’t killed it yet!” One man said, peering into the cage and nudging it with his foot. 

Derek growled a warning and the other one shrugged. “Huh. Maybe he likes to play with his food.”

The first man snickered and pulled a long black baton from the sheath at his hip. He traced it along the bars of the cage and they crackled with electricity, sparks flying and catching in vulnerable fur. Derek howled in pain then whirled and grabbed the fox by the scruff, dragging him into a sheltered place between the wolf’s two enormous front paws. 

The first man let out a cruel laugh. “Look at that Rom, he must not like his dinner well done!”

“Stop it Manny, you idiot,” Rom hissed, “you’ll burn his coat and we need that hide to stay in decent condition or he won’t fetch nothin’ at the market.”

Manny flashed him a sullen look but stopped poking at the prisoners and returned his baton to his holster. 

“Fine,” he huffed, “but he better not try nothin’ between now and then.”

Rom snorted. “What’s he going to do dumbass, he’s in a fucking cage! You think he and that scrawny ass fox are going to hatch some daring escape plan?”

The men stomped away bickering as Derek peered down to find the fox eyeing him with a calculating look as he dragged a claw through the dirt between Derek’s broad paws.

Derek was surprised to find shaky letters written in the intricate alphabet of his far away homeland. They formed a word he didn’t recognize. What the hell was a Stiles? 

The fox let out an exasperated yap at Derek’s confusion and placed his paw on the letters then deliberately raised it and patted the white burst of fur on his chest while tilting his head to the side. 

Oh. Well how was Derek supposed to know it was his name? Foxes were weird. Derek sighed tiredly and dropped down into the dirt curling into a tight ball with his tail over his nose. He pretended not to notice when the fox sidled up next to him and nestled into his side, poking and prodding and making himself comfortable. Derek closed his eyes for the first time in days and fell asleep to the sound of soft breaths and a racing heart.

Derek lurched awake, whining for air, his chest tight and aching. The remnants of his dream - the heat of the flames, the cries of pain and despair - bled out of him and he slowly became aware of a soft voice and gentle touch.

“It’s alright wolfy, shh, shh, I’m here, it’s ok, you’re ok.” Stiles was human and naked and sitting cross-legged in the dirt of the cage floor. He crooned the same soft phrase over and over, the wolf’s great head lying in his lap as he stroked and soothed ruffled fur.

Derek was used to grabbing and pulling and poking and punching. He was used to being dragged and kicked and spat on. He accepted it as his due. But he didn’t know what to do with gentle fingers coaxing the matted tangles out of his neglected coat. 

Derek was tired and Stile was close and he could smell the faint scent of clean magic beneath the grime of Stiles’ skin and he lay helpless beneath the power of Stiles’ caress. 

Derek didn’t know what to do so he did nothing until he fell back asleep and dreamed no more that night. 

The next day the two keepers came for him. They laughed as they used their batons to electrify the cage and force him out into the open. Stiles was spitting and hissing but they slammed the door in his face and prodded Derek into snarling in circles until they managed to hook a leather leash to the length of wire digging into his neck. The more he struggled the more the makeshift collar tightened until he was forced to follow after the two men lest his flow of air be cut off completely. Stiles chittered and barked, then let out a yowl that petered out to a pained whimper. Derek whined but could not turn to see what happened. 

“I can’t believe he hasn’t eaten him yet! Gods, Rom, I think he likes him or something!” Manny mocked, kicking dirt at the leashed wolf. “Hey, do you think these things fuck each other? I bet that little one takes it real good.”

Rom spat in the dust. “You are such an idiot. As soon as this stupid beast gets hungry enough to eat that mangy fox he will. And he’s going to get very hungry. I’m not wasting food on him when the market’s only a couple of days away.”

Derek ignored the harsh words and unwashed stench of his captors as he surveyed his surroundings, taking note of landmarks as he was led through several twisting passageways. They emerged outdoors into a circular arena where a small crowd was gathered. His keepers pulled on the leash, forcing him to turn around in circles as the people murmured among themselves. 

“Change!” Rom ordered.

Derek ignored him.

Manny jabbed at Derek’s flank with his baton, the electricity arcing, lifting the howling wolf off his feet until he crashed back to the ground to lie in a twitching heap at Manny’s feet. 

He lay half-shifted while the crowd circled, unable to decipher the words hidden in the murmur of voices that floated above him

Eventually Derek recovered enough to melt back into his wolf form but his keepers only laughed at him while they forced him to his feet and led him back the way they’d come.

“Did you see the size of this one?” Manny crowed, “He’s going to make us a fortune!”

Rom just grunted and slipped the leash free of an unprotesting Derek then shoved him back into the cage.

Stiles lay unshifted, curled into the corner, his ribs outlined against the stark array of bruises that decorated his delicate skin. The damage done to him was so much more obvious in his human guise and all Derek could do was curl himself around the shivering form and whine softly as he nosed into his hair. 

Derek huddled closer. Stiles heartbeat was fast and faltered every few beats and Derek knew that if he didn’t do something one day soon it would stutter and stop. The fox’s fierce light would fade from the world. 

Derek couldn’t breathe with the wrongness of that. His chest tightened until he lay gasping for air while the edges of his vision turned grainy and dark. He didn’t know Stiles but the thought of his loss filled him with a creeping, cold dread. The wolf snarled. He didn’t understand why but Stile’s death was something that must not happen, not if he could stop it. 

In the morning Derek was human and wrapped around a trembling boy. Stile was obviously awake but didn’t move away from the stranger who held him.

“I miss my Dad.” Stiles whispered.

Derek remained silent for a moment but couldn’t help asking. “Where is he?” 

Stiles sighed. “Far away. On the other side of the mountains. I don’t even know if he’s still alive.”

Derek frowned. “Why wouldn’t he be?”

Stiles sniffed, his eyes welling as a tear slid down his cheek. “Our village was attacked. The last time I saw it, our house was burning. My dad was … he was screaming my name. But the hunters had me and I couldn’t answer.”

“I couldn’t answer,” Stiles repeated fiercely as if he needed to convince Derek or perhaps himself, “if I did he would have come and they would have caught him too. And I couldn’t let that happen, I couldn’t!”

Derek nosed his way into the curve of Stiles’ neck, desperate to ease his grief and guilt. 

“He was all I had,” Stiles choked out a sob, “what if I’ve lost him?”

Derek nuzzled Stiles’ skin. “It’s ok, sssshhh, it’s ok. You did what you had to do. He might be ok. He might have got away.”

Stiles squeezed out a bitter laugh. “I looked back one more time before they threw me in a box. The whole village was burning. It was the middle of the night but it was bright as day with the flames.”

Derek wasn’t sure what to say to that so he closed his eyes and stuttered out, “My name is Derek. I killed my family.”

Stiles tensed in his arms but remained silent.

“I fell in love,” Derek explained, his voice steady and cold, “she was like an exploding star in the darkness. She burned so bright she incinerated them all. I ripped her heart out and brought it to the court of her father. I laid it at his feet.”

Stiles leaned back against him, as if encouraging him to continue.

Derek clutched him tighter, his hands shaking. “He threw me in the dungeons to rot but I didn’t care. I wanted to die. But his son came down that night and freed me. I cursed him but I’m a coward so I left and ran away. I’m still running.”

He waited for Stiles to condemn him, to pull away in disgust. But all the boy did was let out a heavy sigh and whisper, “I don’t want to die.”

Derek pulled Stiles’ closer, wrapping the scarred and battered body in his arms.

Stile was quite for a few moments, then cleared his throat. “I have an idea.”

Stiles whispered his plan, clutching Derek’s hand against his chest. When he was finished he melted back into his fox form and huddled in the corner, his tail over his nose, as if shielding himself from an expected blow.

Derek stared at the fox then spread his fingers wide and sprouted claws. The fox’s gaze did not falter. He nodded once and closed his eyes. Derek huffed then pierced the skin of his own wrist and ripped downward.

The fox’s eyes startled open as Derek swept a finger through spurting blood and smeared it into the fox’s fur.

He drenched the fox in red. It looked as if Derek had snapped every bone in the tiny body then torn it apart. Stiles stifled a hysterical giggle as Derek tickled the fur under his chin with a final swash of gore before sitting back on his haunches and howling in despair.

His keepers jogged into view looking annoyed.

Manny surveyed the bloody scene and grinned. “Look Rom he finally did it!”

Rom shrugged. “I told you he’d get hungry.”

“I hope he didn’t get his coat too bloody,” Manny complained, “I’m not giving this thing a bath before delivery.”

Rom punched his shoulder hard enough to send Manny stumbling a few steps back. “Shut up and get him out of the cage. We haven’t got all day and the buyers are waiting.”

Manny glared but drew out his baton and whacked the bars of the cage sending sparks shooting into the fetid air. Derek sat silently in the middle of the space, his head hanging low, not even flinching as the electricity guttered and sputtered around him. 

“Stupid fucking beast! Get the hell out!” Manny spat as he hit the bars again and again.

Derek remained unmoving.

Rom growled in frustration. “By the ninth pit of Hades, what the fuck is wrong with him? Does he actually feel bad about eating that mangy fox? Gods be damned, help me get him out of there before the buyers walk out on the sale!”

Manny flicked the lock on the cage door stepping forward as it gaped open. The metal box was large enough that Derek remained just out of reach of his keeper’s grasping hands. Manny dropped his baton in the dirt and grabbed the wire looped around the wolf’s neck. Derek did nothing while Manny sweared and sweated and tried unsuccessfully to drag him forward.

“Hades ladies, for fuck’s sake help me Rom!” He whined.

Rom huffed in exasperation, and dropped to his knees grabbing Manny by the belt and pulling.

Suddenly a tiny puff of red burst from behind Derek’s back and leaped into Manny’s face biting and scratching. Manny screamed and fell back knocking Rom over. Derek lunged, his teeth ripping into Manny’s throat as Rom cried out in terror, batting at the furious fox tearing at his eyes. Manny’s twitching body barely hit the ground before Derek’s claws were hooking into Rom ripping the still beating heart from this chest and flinging it into the dirt.

The fox turned to him with a bloody grin, his eyes bright and burning gold.

Derek picked the fox up by the scruff and whipped the little body over his head until he felt a thump against his broad back. Next came scrabbling and a painful pull as needle sharp claws and tiny but efficient fangs dug into his fur. He hoped the fox was good at hanging on because there wasn’t much Derek could do to help as he raced through spiraling passageways, ignoring shouts and curses as he dodged between rows of cages and raced toward the rays of sun he spied peaking through the cracks of a set of iron gates that were swinging shut. 

Derek put on a burst of speed and slid through the gap between them just before they closed completely. He swerved to the side, feeling the fox almost fall from his perch but managing to keep a grip as Derek galloped down a stinking alleyway until he reached a wide, cobbled street. He kept to the shadows after that, slinking between rows of buildings until the city thinned out and they came to the edge of a tumbled rock wall that separated them from the forest beyond. 

Derek stopped, waiting to see what the fox would do. They could separate here, each going their own way relieved of the need for any continued alliance. Yet the fox only snorted and settled deeper into the thick fur of Derek’s back, nipping at the nape of Derek’s neck. 

Derek bared his teeth and his chest rumbled but he couldn’t stop his growl from sounding fond and he sighed and gave in at least for the moment. He’d been alone for a very long time and the thought of a companion, even one as annoying as a fox wasn’t entirely unwelcome. He decided he was too tired to give his decision the full consideration it was due and would think about it later after he’d found a safe place to sleep. 

Mind made up Derek trotted off into the forest and pretended he didn’t care about jostling the warm little creature with the rabbiting heart who was already curled up and breathing soft sighs and snores from within his nest of warm, thick wolf fur. 

Derek paused, catching the faint scent of honeysuckle winding through the evening air. It stirred the ashes of memories he’d spent years running from. The fox shivered in his sleep and breathed a tiny yip, kicking at Derek with the sharp jerk of a hind foot before settling once again. 

Derek huffed and turned north, following the trail of sweet scented flowers away from the cities and seas ruled by men. He lifted his head and allowed the wind to pull him along, climbing into the hills, on the long trek toward the mountain passes. The last time he’d come this way he’d been racing in the other direction, determined to leave his former life behind. 

But maybe things were different now. He wasn’t sure why but Stiles made him feel brave and strong and useful. He didn’t understand the connection he felt for someone he didn’t even know. The spark in those eyes and the sly grins filled spaces he had forgotten were empty. 

His steps faltered as he surveyed the path ahead unsure if this was the right way. Yet before he could convince himself to turn back around a bright chittering filled the air and tiny but razor sharp teeth nipped at his ear playfully careful not to break the skin. Derek shook his head and the fox gasped out a bark that sounded suspiciously like a giggle and Derek couldn’t help the rumble building in his chest. 

He had a feeling the fox would stay no matter what he decided but Derek remembered the crack in the voice of the trembling boy who’d trusted him with his tale of grief and loss. Stiles missed his dad and his old village lay far away on the other side of the mountain pass. Derek’s own homeland lay along the same path. He wasn’t sure what they would find should they choose to take the northern route but he knew he’d run for long enough. Derek’s family was gone forever but Stiles still had a chance to find his and the wolf would make damn sure he didn’t lose his way. 

Derek rolled his shoulders, stifling an amused snort as Stiles squawked and scrabbled to hang on. Tiny paws skittered and the fox yipped then sighed and settled once again, soft snores whiffling into the thick ruff of hair circling Derek’s neck.

The wolf continued north, trotting along a rutted path, accompanied by the staccato thump-thump-thump of a rapidly beating heart. It settled him somehow, giving him the strength to travel far into the wilderness for the rest of that day and for many days to come.


End file.
